Wings of a Guardian Angel
by Crazy Twilight Lover
Summary: Edward is a human teenager who is abused by his step-parents. Bella is a Guardian Angel on a mission to save him. The only problem is, they fall in love. And their love is forbidden and can cost a life...Hiatus
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note-I know, bad idea to write another story. But I couldn't help myself. I'm bursting with ideas. Please just check this one out. Though Edward isn't in this chapter, I promise he will be in future chapters.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.**

**Edward: Or me.**

**Me: Or the characters.**

**Emmett: That's right! Only Stephenie Meyer owns us!**

**Rosalie: -Smacks Emmett upsaide the head- No one but I own you, Stupid!**

**-Awkward silence, then yelling-**

**Dear Reader, please read on while I deal with some very frustrating fictional characters who will not shut up.**

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Chapter 1

Birth of an Angel

**Bella's POV**

My eyes snapped open to a brilliant, blinding light. I brought a pale hand up to my forehead in an attempt to block some of the brightness out of my eyes. My memory was foggy, and I couldn't remember anything.

"So," a deep, rich voice said. "You're awake."

I sat straight up in fright. "Who are you? What am I doing here?" I looked around, but could see no one.

"Do you not remember anything, Isabella Swan?" the voice chuckled.

Suddenly, memories flooded my brain as if the internal gate that had been holding them back had broken when my name was mentioned. I vaguely remembered a boring life with my father, and a fuzzy picture of my mother.

But the clearest night I remembered was--last night? I had gone to the heart of my home-city, Chicago, to see a faboulus movie with a friend. I had gotten lost in a dark, deserted alley and was beaten up by a gang of drunken men. Thank goodness they had not raped me.

"Where am I now?" I called out to the mysterious voice. "Will I be able to see you?"

"You are in Heaven," the voice breathed. "You will not be able to see me, for I am the Holy One, Creator of Angels."

I choked. "_What? _I'm an _angel_?"

The voice chuckled again. "I feel your disbelief. You are indeed an angel. It is those innocent ones who have been robbed of their chance at life that become angels. Therefore, you have become one."

"Hmmm..." I mused. "Do I have to do things like watch over people?"

The Creator laughed. "There are many different types of angels. There are Sleeping Angels, who gently release humans from their misery, Fiery Angels, who try their best to prevent wrong on Earth, Love Angels, who help humans find their soul mates, and more. You are a Guardian Angel. You will be assigned a human, and must keep watch over him at all times."

I groaned inwardly. I could barely watch over myself, and now I had to watch over another human?

"Your human is Edward Cullen, a seventeen-year-old boy abused by his step-parents. Your mission is to keep him from the Sleeping Angels (meaning you cannot let him die) and make his life happier. This is your test to see if you qualify to be a true Guardian Angel. Fail, and you will be given another assignment. We do not give punishments in Heaven," the invisible Creator told me.

"Angels cannot sleep," he continued. Or at least I think it was a 'he'. "They take away sadness and replace it with happiness. Guardian Angels are most special. They have unusual powers. Your power is that you can control an element, fire. Do you see the necklace around your neck?"

I looked down, and saw a necklace I never saw before. The chain was pure gold, and hanging off it was a gold pendant. In the center of the pendant was a ruby that blazed like a bonfire. If I peered at the ruby closely, I could see flames leap from the jewel. It made every piece of jewelery I owned on Earth look like they were made from plastic. I nodded.

"That jewel is the Fire Stone. The necklace does not have a clasp, so no one can steal it," the Creator said cheerfully.

I smiled. "I like it."

"On the back of the pendant is the Crest of Heaven. It is an H with angel wings sprouting from it and you have it on your left shoulder too." I was tempted to peek, but the Creator was not done talking. "Now, I will show you your bedroom. You will live in it when you are in Heaven, in between missions."

In a flash of light, I was transported into a beautiful room. There was a king-sized bed dominating the left wall, and a floor length mirror in front of me. I was too dazzled by my own reflection to see the rest of the room.

My once dull, stringy brown hair was now a sleek, shiny, and silky mahogany color. It swayed gently in a non-existent breeze. I was wearing a plain blue T-shirt with a flowy pink skirt and shiny black ballet flats. Protruding out of my back were a pair of huge, indescribable wings. They were like dove wings, pure white with soft feathers. I gaped at myself.

"Are you ready for the mission ahead? This is a difficult journey, but travel it well, and you will be rewarded upon your return. Farewell, and may you succeed," the voice said.

Then, a saw another flash of light, and everything went black.

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**Author's Note-So, how was it? I know it's a short chapter, and I ****promise I will make the next chapters longer, if that makes your cup of tea. I won't be able to update very often. The pictures of Bella's Guardian Angel clothes and shoes are on my profile.**

**Please don't be offended if this goes against your religion. I was only trying to make up a story where Bella gets to be the one who helps Edward.**

**Oh, and I have a poll on my profile. Please check it out. I **_**WILL NOT**_** lose against my sister.**

**Please REVIEW! Please? If you don't, I'm putting Edward Cullen up for sale...**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note-So, this is the second chapter of ****Wings of a Guardian Angel****. Please read, review, and enjoy! And I'm sorry if the violence is a bit too much, but Edward's life is violent.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, sadly.**

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Chapter 2

The Devil Wears Prada

**Edward's POV**

I scurried off to bed, if you can call where I sleep a bed, before Victoria and James could find something else to blame on me.

My life was hell. When I was six, my father died of influenza, and my mother was heartbroken. In an effort to heal herself, she dated James for a year before deciding he was perfect and officially married him. Unknown to her, James had a girlfriend whom he snuck off to see every night. Finally, when I was ten, he couldn't keep the secret any longer and poisoned her tea, 'grieved' for a total of five days, and then married his girlfriend Victoria twenty days after the funeral. So, he had the house, the money, the property, but also, me.

Victoria and James had a spoiled daughter, Scarlett. She was fifteen now, born before my mother even started dating her father. Because we weren't blood-related, she tried _every single day_ to win my affections. But how could I love her when she did nothing but watch and giggle when I was beaten?

James would whip me every time he found Scarlett flirting with me, saying I was harassing her. After seven years, I was supposed to be used to it.

The only problem was, I wasn't.

I wasn't. I wasn't used to the way I was treated like a dirty bag of scum by my step-parents. I wasn't used to the way I was blamed for lightning hitting the car, or a shirt being too small. I wasn't used to the way I had to do everything in the house.

Life wasn't fair, and I still wasn't used to it. God help me.

I went down on my knees before the window and, staring at the brilliant stars, I said my nightly prayer. I prayed for a better life for me, or at least one day when I wouldn't get whipped. But God never answered my prayers, not for seven years.

I was lucky to have the attic to myself. Every month, James and Victoria bought me a new outfit. It was always long overdue, but they said I was considered lucky that they were so nice to me.

That night, I looked at my neighbor's house and noticed the silhouette of a feminine figure standing on the roof of the house next to ours. She had a nice, curvy frame, with long billowinghair that sailed gently in the cool breeze. But the remarkable thing about the girl was the large, powerful-looking wings that spurted straight out of her back.

I rubbed my eyes and looked back. There was nothing there.

As soon as I hit the air mattress, I was out like a dying flame in a hurricane. That night, I slept like the dead. Not even a chainsaw could've woken me.

I awoke at the first crack of dawn, dreading another day of cooking, cleaning, and serving. Everything seemed to go fine until Scarlett tried, yet again, to flirt with me.

"Hey, Edward," she giggled.

I just nodded my head in response and served her chocolate pudding.

Victoria screamed at me, "Young man, you should at least have the manners to talk to my daughter!"

So, I mumbled a "Hi" back. But when James heard me talking to Scarlett, he hit me over the head with the hardcover textbook in his hand.

How's that for fair?

Victoria today was even worse than usual. She had a big tea party coming up, and I was to be the charming servant she lured to her home and convinced to work for her. Her friends were extremely nice people, but were oblivious because my step-mother acted like a gentle mom instead of the devil in front of them. No one would have thought her capable of child-abuse. Except me.

So, when I tripped over the carpet and broke the stack of fragile china tea plates I had in my hands, it came as a shock when she smacked me across the face. In front of her friends.

The gasps were resounding and shocked, so Victoria dragged me in the cellar to finish her job. She slapped me, kicked me, even used a belt to whip me.

I bit back the hot tears brimming in my eyes so she wouldn't see them and be satisfied she hurt me, but a few traitor ones slipped out and ran down my face. I was biting my lip so hard, I drew blood.

"You insignificant little son of a b--! I know you did that on purpose! Apologize to me, you f--ing boy!" she screamed, then added some very colorful words.

I cowered back and whispered hoarsely, "But it was an accident, I swear."

"No it was not! I know you did it on purpose! You're jealous!"

"But I swear to God, it was just an accident. I tripped," I pleaded.

She shook her head and kicked me again. "Apologize! And say you did it on purpose!"

"But I--"

She kicked me again. "Say it!"

Every time I tried to tell her it was just an accident, that I had unconsciously tripped off the carpet, Victoria would interrupt me and hurt me in some way. When I could finally take it no longer, I muttered, "I'm sorry. I broke your plates on purpose to make you look bad." Lies. They were all lies.

"Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" she sneered in my face. I shook my head frantically.

She picked up a broken, empty bottle of red wine and started hitting my body with it. My clothes were ripped and there was a large pool of blood on the floor before she stopped.

"You better not do it again or you will not live another day," she whispered menacingly in my ear. I nodded weakly.

And that was how she left me, slumped and bleeding on the floor of the cellar. It was half and hour later that I had enough strength to pull myself upstairs into my room.

And there she was standing in my room. An angel. I got a brief look at her. Chocolate hair, chocolate eyes, blue T-shirt, pink skirt, large white wings.

The last thing I felt before I fainted from lack of blood was her catching me in her soft warm arms.

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**Author's Note-Sorry it's so short. I want to thank every single person who read this story. And I wan to thank the following people for reviewing my story: sugarhigh123, Twilightlubber4ever, whitezcar, Beckerzzzz, Flys Through Water, kaosgurl00, brezy bri, fubulicious, soccerlover2-0, RoGueSurfer, gabiee98, lilyrose29, EdwardandBellaTruLove4Ever, lilvoice1, xXxJazRainexXx, Rinara, and a huge special thanks to my first reviewer, Maximum Ride all the way.**

**Wow. Long list. And I'm really pleased that one chapter got 17 reviews! I love you guys!**

**Please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters. They all (with the expection of one, whom not even I own) belong to Stephenie Meyer.**

Chapter 3

**Bella's POV**

I gasped and nearly lost my footing, having found myself suddenly standing on the roof of a large house. My left foot slipped and I almost fell, my hand clutching a protruding steel pipe the only thing that kept me from meeting _SPLAT_ with the ground a few dozen feet below.

I hauled myself back up, grunting with the effort. Laughter met my ears.

"What?" I grumbled, irritated that someone had witnessed my humiliation, and that someone had seen my clumsy near-death fall. That is, if I _could_ die. I have a feeling that dying was not one of the things I could do anymore.

More laughter. I looked up and found myself staring into the very brown eyes of a boy. He was sitting on the crest of the roof, his feet splayed easily in front of him at a 45 degree angle. A boyish, happy smile graced his features.

You know, he was pretty cute. But that doesn't necessarily mean that I'm going to go all sweet on him.

"Who _are_ you?" I asked.

He grinned at me and said, "Nice to meet you too, Bella."

"Look, who are you, and how the hell do you know my name?"

He clucked softly, and shook his head. "Tsk, tsk. You really shouldn't talk about Hael, Bella. It's not a good thing to get the Creator mad at you even before you finish your first assignment. First rule: No cursing, and definitely not if you're thinking about involving the Black Prince's kingdom."

"Who's the Black Prince? And you still haven't told me who you are yet!"

He gestured to himself with his hand. "Cheater. It's my nickname. The Black Prince is who some would call…" he lowered his voice, "…the Devil. We just call him the Black Prince, to be polite. Or else the Creator will be warring with him all the time."

"So…Cheater. What am I doing here, on a _roof_, of all places, and aren't you going to help me? I could fall any minute."

He pointed at my back. "You have wings, you know."

I blushed a million shades of red and wriggled a little, hunching my shoulders up to peer behind me. Oh, wow! I had a pair of huge, magnificent wings, the color of new snow. The feathers were soft as a mother hen's down.

"Spread them," Cheater offered helpfully.

I doubted that I could get these things to move, especially when they looked like a swan had ran smack-dab into my back and gotten stuck there. But when I concentrated, it was like directing my arms or my legs; the wings were a part of me. I was impressed.

Closing my eyes, I spread my wings and the wind picked them up. I nearly went flying like a piece of paper in a storm, but one sweep of the powerful wings and I landed lightly on the roof next to Cheater.

He was still smiling, a dimple showing in the corner of his mouth. "That was good. It takes a while to get used to them."

"Thanks." I ruffled my wings and directed my question at the boy in front of me. "What now?"

"Now? Why, you go about your mission, I suppose." He bounced to his feet and I saw that he was short and kind of stocky, only about 4'9" with longish dirty-brown hair mixed with a little blond falling over his forehead. He was wearing what appeared to be a school uniform: a white shirt with a school emblem on the left breast pocket, khaki trousers, and black shoes. Talk about a mini Oxford student.

I frowned. He looked too young to be bouncing around on rooftops. "How old are you?"

"Me?" he said almost shyly. "I'm thirteen, almost fourteen. I can't really remember when my birthday was. It's been a long time since I've aged."

"Wait. You're dead too?"

He gave me a look that suggested he thought I was dumb. "What did you think I'm here for? To talk to some moody new angel? I'm an experienced angel, a guide for newbies, and brilliant when it comes to geometry. I mean the high school geometry, not seeing shapes and going, 'Oh, that's a circle!' And before you ask, no, my being thirteen does not matter. You could be a forty-year-old for all I care, and I'll _still _be more experienced. Anyways, I'm here to help you get your first mission done. I do suppose you know what your mission is?"

"Something about a certain Edward Cullen and Sleeping Angels," I mumbled.

Cheater nodded. "Ah. Guardian Angel, are you? I see you've gotten the Fire Stone. Interesting…" His voice faded and he stared thoughtfully at the pendant hanging from my neck.

"Excuse me," I said, tentative about interrupting his thoughts, "but I don't exactly know what's happening. Why the he – blazes – do I need to keep this Edward from going to the Sleeping Angels, if they're angels and they're supposedly 'good?'"

He leaned casually against the chimney. "The Black Prince values Sleeping Angels. They bring death, and he sometimes bribes them to work for him, in return for more power. That's why the Creator is trying to stop the Sleeping Angels in league with the Black Prince from taking more victims."

I opened my mouth, but Cheater stiffened and stood up straighter. "Have to go," he said urgently.

"How do you know?"

He flicked me something and I caught it reflexively. "You'll know," he said. "You'll know. By the way, the key to communication is love."

"One more question before you go, Cheater!" I yelled.

"Yeah?" I traced along his back where my new wings were and his shivered, giggling a little. "Stop it, I'm ticklish." As soon as he said that, a mischievous look stole over my face, and he hastily stepped back.

"Why don't you have wings?"

He shrugged. "You learn to keep them from showing. It takes energy and control, but you master it after about…oh, your first week."

I nodded. "Okay, toodles."

"Bye, Bella. Watch out for your human." With that, he was gone. I was really going to have to ask him how we moved from place to place.

"Wait!" I shouted into the empty air. "Will you be back?"

A boyish laugh was my response, and I felt confident now that I had someone to teach me how to survive as an angel. Even though said someone was a short eighth-grade male who was the very definition of the word _boy_, from his laugh to his face. Not man, boy. As in, young and innocent.

Looking up, I saw a vivid pair of green eyes staring at me from inside a dimly lit room. He was on his knees, hands clasped together in prayer.

The sheer power in his eyes had me reeling, and I flapped my wings awkwardly to regain my balance. Those twin emerald orbs were stunning. They belonged to a young man, not like Cheater, but around eighteen years old. But the weariness and pain in his eyes suggested that he was older than he looked, as if he had seen all the hurt in the world.

The boy brought his hands up to his face and rubbed his tired eyes, freeing me from his gaze. I fled like a coward.

Once in the cool night sky, I was able to think clearly once more. Who was that boy? And where would I find Edward Cullen? How would I contact Cheater?

I realized that my hand was still clutching the thing that Cheater tossed me. I opened my palm.

There, laying in my hand, was a charm bracelet.

And dangling from silver chain was a single silver heart. _The key to communication is love_.

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Okay, so maybe snooping in a guy's room isn't the most brilliant thing to do, but what do you expect? I just came in to see if this kid knew a certain Edward Cullen, only to find Cheater sprawled on the too-big bed, grinning at me like he won the lottery.

And by this room, I meant the room where I saw the green-eyed teen that looked major troubled.

"What in the world are you doing here?" I hissed.

Cheater examined his fingernails. "I was just testing your abilities."

"I'm looking to see if this guy knows the kid I'm supposed to be looking out for," I said, by way of explanation. But Cheater obviously didn't get it, because instead of leaving, he just continued picking under his already-clean nails.

"Being here: correct," he said calmly. "Reason? Unfortunately wrong. Looks like you need to sharpen your angel instincts." He gestured around the room. "This is Edward Cullen's room."

"The human I'm supposed to look after?"

He looked at me scathingly. "Duh."

"You still didn't answer my question yet. What are you doing here?"

"To guide you, obviously. Or else you would have flown away without knowing that your human was right under your nose. Speaking of which, he's dragging himself upstairs. You best be ready, and I should make myself scarce. There's nothing that brews trouble more than two angels together in the presence of a confused human."

There was a little _zap_ and then I was alone again. Arg! He really had to stop that.

The doorknob turned and a tall boy fell into the room, crouched and stumbling and utterly bewildered at the sight of an angel in his room. He fainted.

It seemed like such a Bella thing. I know I'd fainted quite often in my human life.

Instinctively, I bent and caught him, but not before his eyes fluttered closed. His body went limp and his mouth was a little too slack, his heartbeat a little too slow. There was a bruise forming on his knuckles and his head. I kissed his forehead right over the bruise without thinking.

He stirred, sagging a little and making a piteous sound. I felt my heart stutter. Poor guy.

With nothing better to do, I hefted this boy (whom I really should be calling Edward) onto his bed and pulled the covers over him, intending to leave. But then again, it would be too rude. I noticed blood soaking the mattress.

"No, please no," Edward whimpered, calling out in his sleep. He flinched and wriggled, his motions nonstop as he sought to get away from whatever was plaguing his dreams.

Oh well. I might as well use the nurse courses I got.

Wetting a soft towel in the bathroom sink, I grabbed a bucket and poured cold water in it. As I walked by the small modest closet, I snagged a pair of trousers and a clean shirt.

I pulled Edward off the bed and into my lap. He bit his lip hard, drawing blood, and then cried out, his voice tortured. He began thrashing, his head jerking left and right, his breath coming in wheezing gasps. I found myself biting my own lip. In my whole life, I had never seen anyone so…in pain. I had never met anyone who hurt as much as he did.

At the first stroke from the towel, Edward quieted a little. He stopped moaning and lay still. I continued wiping his face and washing the blood out of his hair (this is where the bucket came in handy). Swiftly and with as much modesty as I could summon, I yanked off his clothes.

I winced. There were livid red cuts all over his back and stomach, yellowing bruises contrasting starkly with discolored purple-blue ones that were less than hours old. But despite the horrible scars his body bore, I couldn't help but notice the strong biceps, taunt stomach muscles, and lean body. I couldn't help but follow with my eyes the tapering of his waist down to the flare of his narrow hips. I felt something wake in my chest.

Flushing, I turned away and pulled the trousers over his legs and the button-up shirt through his arms. I began to fasten the buttons quickly. Before I buttoned the last one, I leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to his navel, over an extra-ugly long welt. I could only guess that he had been whipped.

I found new sheets and tucked him back into bed. For over an hour, I watched the boy slumber restlessly, unable to do anything but rouse him partially from his dreams. But each time I did, he sank back into the hole of nightmares, and I had to listen to his tormented cries once more.

"Edward?"

I jumped as the voice echoed up the stairs, rebounding around the room. The female voice did not sound particularly happy with him, and the name was infused with pure nastiness.

"Edward! Get down here right this instant!"

On the bed, Edward woke, completely disorientated. When he heard another piercing, "EDWARD!" he leaped out of the air-mattress and scrambled around, trying to look presentable in the middle of the day. His eyes slid right over me and he scampered out the door without a second glance.

Curious, I followed him, making sure to stay out of sight by hiding behind corners and furniture. He led me right to the parlor, where a first-class bio-tch with fiery red hair yakked at him for messing up her tea party. She slapped him once or twice so that his cheeks were red, but it was nothing compared to what the man standing next to her did.

He dragged Edward over to him by the ear, and cuffed him. Hard. I could hear the resounding smack even from behind the wall. There were more scuffling sounds that followed, very violent sounds, but I tucked my head into my knees in fear. I couldn't stomach the sight of an innocent being beaten. Yeah. Call me a lousy angel for not even helping.

Biting my lip in uncertainty, I rubbed the heart on the charm bracelet.

"What?" he said, attempting to sound irritable but coming off as cheerful. "This is the third time since last night."

"Look, Cheater," I said pleadingly. "I'm really bad at this angel stuff. I can't even stand hearing the guy beat Edward. There must have been a mistake. Are you sure the Creator meant to make _me_ an angel?"

"Fairly sure," he replied happily. God, was this kid _always_ so optimistic? It's like he swallowed a half dozen happy pills.

I exhaled. "I'm just not cut out to be a Guardian Angel."

"Sure you are. You just need to find your inner angel, and let her shine." He shrugged as if it were nothing. "So don't help him, if you can't. Things just kinda fall into place if you let them."

"Great. That _really_ helps," I said sarcastically.

Cheater shrugged again and slapped his thigh. "Any more questions before I go?"

"Yeah. How the hell do we move?" I ignored his protests when I used the fourth word.

"You'll learn. And about the Hael thing. You could get in serious trouble for that."

"I couldn't give a fart about trouble," I said. "Of course, my days are wonderful cause I get mugged on my way home, I die, and then suddenly I'm a Guardian Angel, with a retard as my guide. So I'm just peachy."

He looked really hurt. "You think I'm a retard?" For once, he didn't look happy.

"Well, what am I supposed to think? You barely help!"

Cheater hung his head sadly and said, "Then I guess I won't be promoted. My last assignment, and I fail." He sniffled a little and added, "You wanted to be on your own, so you're on your own now." With a flash, he was gone. But this time, the flash was dimmer than the other times.

I cursed to myself. I just chased away my only help.

Ah, call it screwing up. And Edward Cullen still needed my help. I sighed and poked my head cautiously around the corner. He was alone.

"Edward," I crooned softly.

He lifted his head and stared at me with glassy eyes. I beckoned, and he followed me obediently up the stairs. He would have followed me over a cliff to his death in this state. I was really worried for his health.

Midnight found me hunched over Edward Cullen (who was sleeping a little more restfully than he had last time I watched over him) rubbing my charm bracelet. I muttered, "Come on, Cheater. Please." But no matter how hard I rubbed, he wouldn't come.

And I realized that I had chased away my only friend.

Even though said friend was an annoying thirteen-year-old in a school uniform who was always happy.

Edward whimpered softly and I laid a hand over his forehead soothingly. I found that he liked my touch, and every time my skin came in contact with his, my heart gave a little lurch. Maybe dying had made me become a little crazy after all.

Oh, what the heck. I laid my head on his stomach and closed my eyes.

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**Author's Note-Sorry if the characters are a little OOC. Bella's just freaking out about being an angel. I mean, wouldn't you too?**

**I might not be able to update for a couple months (see profile for reasons). I know I swore not to work on this while I had other stories to work on. But I couldn't resist, and well, this had more reviews than I had bargained for. I can't believe it. Fifty-five just for two chapters! Is it really that good, or are you guys just flattering me?**

**Cheater will have a small part in this fanfic (no, he does not love Bella, he just sees her as a friend). I adore him (mainly because he's a real guy). I will reveal more of his tragic past in the future and his real name, as well as concentrate more on Bella and Edward in future chapters. I'm sorry if this chapter didn't have enough BXE in it, but I wanted to introduce this new buddy, who is pretty important.**

**Review, and tell me what you think!**


	4. Chapter 4

**So this has been sitting in my computer for a few months now...**

**Disclaimer: I own none of the characters**

Chapter 4

A Day That Makes Hell Week Look Tame

**Mystery POV**

I sat at the edge of a cliff, sulking a little. Okay, a lot. But it's not really nice when someone insults you.

Watching the waves crash upon the shore was…boring. I'm sorry, but I'm not a very nature person. I'm more the type that sits around laughing, doing whatever with friends. Or I could be what some people call "the not-so-innocent" one. I sure look cute, but maybe I'm not quite as chaste as you think.

But don't get the wrong idea. I'm still pretty virtuous.

Where was my guitar when I needed it?

I stood up and stretched a little, yawning with pure boredom. Then I took a little walk, and ended up at my house. There was no one home, obviously, and no one wanted to rob the odd little cottage anyway, so I never locked the door.

Imagine my surprise when I twisted the knob and it wouldn't turn. Frowning a little, I tried again, to no avail. I walked to the back of the house, scanning the windows with my eyes. Nothing. So why didn't the door open? I tried the back door. Locked too. This was seriously getting out of hand. I scratched my head a little and wandered over to one of the side windows, pushing it to see if it was locked. The screen lifted easily and the glass pushed in. Jackpot.

I clambered into the house through the window (a little clumsily) and, without closing it, checked the doors. They opened without me having to undo the bolt. I stepped outside, closed the door, and then pulled it back open. So why didn't it open before? It definitely wasn't locked. I tried the same procedure with the back door. Same thing happened.

Either the door didn't like me, or an invisible someone was playing a very irksome prank.

I checked the window I just crawled through. Closed firmly and locked.

I think I'll go with inanimate objects hate me.

I tiptoed upstairs and peeked under my bed, just to make sure no one put a colony of ants down there, or my favorite CD. No, but there were a whole lot of mothballs and dust particles. I sneezed violently.

The dust particles rose a little from the force of my breath, then settled back down. Only this time, there was the word "Hello" written on the floor. It was like when a child draws on a foggy window. The contours of each letter were surrounded by dust. I bit my lip and squinted at the floor. There was no way the position of the dust it could be a coincidence.

"What in the world…?" I muttered aloud.

The dust rearranged itself with perfect precision. Now it said in smaller letters, "How are you this fine day, my friend?"

I grumbled under my breath and the dust swirled gently, as if laughing. Now it read, "I have a proposition for you."

"And what may that be?" I said, feeling foolish for speaking into thin air.

The dust danced madly as if it were laughing and then gently floated down. "Bring me the boy."

"What boy?" The dust didn't move anymore, so I repeated, "What boy?" and then blew on the floor.

"You know which boy," the layer of thin gold powder spelled.

I fidgeted nervously. "Look, who _are_ you?" The dust spun in little eddies now, and I got the feeling that whoever was making them move like this was chuckling at my stupidity. I made a face in the direction of the floor.

"Remember." I shivered at the creepy font the single word was written in. Like dripping blood. It made my skin crawl, and reminded me of things I didn't want to remember.

"Remember. I am watching you." This time, not only was the dust spelling out the words, but a chill voice was whispering in my ear from nowhere, a voice that I knew from my dreams. Dreams that I barely recalled, dreams that I hadn't had in a long time. Dreams that eluded me for years. Or should I say nightmares? That word seemed to fit the voice better. Under the words written on my floor was a pair of glowing red-black eyes that reeked of cunning.

I flinched, recoiling and jumping back from the terrible eyes. They smiled at me with a voice of their own. "You!" I gasped. Any leftover happiness in my body disappeared.

"Me," the voice in my ear said calmly. "Of course," it added a little ruefully, "I don't suppose you'd like to add my name?"

I sat there paralyzed with terror and hatred. "You…the Black Prince!"

There was a round of applause from underneath me. "Congratulations! I see you finally found your senses. Though," it said a trifle sadly, "I much do prefer the name 'The Devil.' It makes me feel more terrifying. Huh. It seems you're terrified enough."

"Go away! Go back to Hael! You're not welcome here!" I couldn't help my voice from trembling.

The voice chuckled, and the eyes sparkled. "We'll see," the voice mused. "We'll see. Now, let's get down to business. Bring me the boy."

"Why do you want him?" I fired back. I knew by now that he meant Edward.

"For things that you will never understand," the voice sighed.

"Try me," I snapped.

There was a dry laugh, and then the terrible voice rumbled, "Oh, yes? You'll never understand the thirst for power and the need to rule supreme. I guess the O Mighty Great One has poisoned your mind with thoughts of peace and love?" There was a gust of cold, cold air, though none of the windows were open. A blanket of freezing _cold_ embraced my brain, like an invisible, extraterrestrial being. It was the Black Prince's consciousness.

Mute and frozen, I nodded woodenly. I suddenly found that I couldn't move, couldn't do anything but obey the voice, and do what it wanted.

"Let me tell you, boy. Peace and love don't exist. The Creator tells you to set all your rage aside, and sing in harmony, right?" I nodded again at the scornful tone. "That's rubbish. What is life without rage? It shapes us, it makes us who we truly are. What kind of world would it be if everything were just dandy? No problems, no war, just endless love. Wouldn't that be boring?"

"Yes," I stuttered, hating how the word sounded.

"And isn't the Creator a mistake?"

I was about to open my mouth to say, "Yes," but resisted. Instead, I clenched my mouth shut and dug my nails into the wooden floor. To say that would be to commit treachery, and be a traitor to Heaven.

"Answer me, boy!" Still, I gritted my teeth and locked my jaw. "You will regret this." Now the voice was soft and threatening. Did you know that whispers are more deadly than shrieks of anger? I trembled with fear but said nothing.

It came without warning. Waves and waves of pain. I could do nothing but writhe in agony, trying my hardest not to cry out. My body twisted into distorting positions, and yet the pain still came, bearing down upon me like a wolf upon a rabbit. My vision went black, then I saw red. Fiery, terrible, bloody red, like the flames of Hael. I shuddered and held back my screams by biting my tongue until it bled and grew numb, and yet the occasional whimper slipped out, adding to the fuel.

Almost as fast as if came, the pain left. I lay on my stomach on the floor, with no clue as to how I got like that. My limbs were still shaking.

"Well, boy?" the voice crooned.

I spat out a mouthful of gold blood and glared at the hateful red eyes. More pain. More agony. And this time, a stirring in my heart. I saw flashes behind my eyes, blurry but enough to tell me what they were. I thrashed on the ground again and, unlocking my jaw, sobbed, "Yes!" It stopped again.

Panting, I stared at the place where the eyes lay. There was only a pool of crimson blood. "Look, child. Look closely. It's his blood. Bring him to me."

"No." I sat up straight, waiting for the pain to cripple me again. But it never came.

"No?" the voice said, and I detected cool amusement. It made me hate the voice even more. "No? You won't bring me the boy? That's a mistake right there, boy."

"I don't care. You can hit me with all the pain you want, but I won't."

"Pain? Why, I won't make you go through any more _physical_ pain, young one. But," I froze in terror, knowing what was to come a few seconds before it came. Of course, I realized that much too late to do anything. Much too late to put up my mental shields. "But, how good is your memory..." There was a malicious pause, before the voice plowed on, "…_Nico?_"

Then the memories that I kept sealed carefully behind the secret vault in my brain flooded out. My heart felt too swollen for my body, and my lungs too tight. My chest constricted, I found it hard to breathe. Soon enough, I was gasping for breath. The hazy images that flashed behind my eyes when the pain hit the second time suddenly became crystal clear. I screamed, I thrashed, I tried to get away, but how can you get away from all the memories that plague you, when they're _inside_ of you? All the pain, the loss, the _guilt_, the _responsibility_. The death.

"Have you had enough?"

I lifted my head. The red blood was gone, and the eyes were back. I lowered my eyes, defeated.

"Have you? I'm getting impatient." An invisible hand brought up the image of an empty crib. It wasn't gory, it wasn't full of blood – it was just sheer…emptiness. The picture became ten-times clearer, and there was a little baby girl in it smiling up at me. I reached out a hand for her, but she disappeared the next second. With a small moan, I nodded and hung my head in shame.

"You will?" I nodded again. I was unable to meet the eyes of the Black Prince, and unable to look up at the sky, where the Creator dwelled. "Excellent!"

_Traitor_, my brain whispered to my heart. _Traitor. Traitor. Traitor._ I tried to block it out, but the screams became louder and louder. _TRAITOR!_ The last yell was mixed with a woman's cry, "_Cynthia!_"

Trembling, I looked up. The dust was gone, as were the eyes. The lone field mouse sitting there squeaking up a storm scared me nearly as much as I scared it. It let out one more indignant squeak before scurrying off. Such a seemingly innocent creature. And yet, who knew what it was plotting in its tiny mind?

I slumped back down, feeling as if the whole world rested on my shoulders. My true name still resounded in my ears.

There was a prickling behind my eyes. Tears. I hadn't cried in so long. In fact, I'd thought it unmanly and, even though it made me miserable sometimes to keep all my emotions bottled up inside, I somehow let it out some other way. I know, I act masochistic. But this time, I welcomed the unshed tears. They made me feel a fraction better.

I lay back down and welcomed the crushing darkness I'd held at bay for years.

**So...? How was it? Please review, they mean the world to me! HIATUS: I still am on hiatus, don't know when I'll be back since I'm having problems with my Twilight plotbunny, who's hiding from me. But I thought that, hey, since this is already typed it and has been for about a year now, I might as well post it. (:**


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